


Joy Ride

by manspider



Category: The Dresden Files - Jim Butcher
Genre: Apprentice Shenanigans, Humor, Molly and Mouse, Molly generally crushes on Harry and nothing happens, Mouse is a Good Boy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2017-04-23
Packaged: 2018-10-23 02:59:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,543
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10710759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manspider/pseuds/manspider
Summary: When Harry Dresden goes out of town for a weekend, Chicago keeps right on being supernatural. Molly and Mouse take a joyride in the Blue Beetle, an old grudge of Harry's comes looking for trouble, and Molly meets a mysterious character.





	Joy Ride

**Author's Note:**

> The Dresden Files are property of Jim Butcher, not me. I'm just playing sandbox in the awesome universe he created.

Sometimes, Harry Dresden is just asking for trouble.

“And here’s the key to the Beetle, in case there’s some kind of emergency,” Harry said as he lurched out the apartment door. He hefted the bulging duffel bag on his shoulder, then produced a keyring from one of the pockets of his leather duster. It was the first day of summer, and still he insisted on wearing black leather everywhere he went. My master tossed me the key, and I caught it by the 20-sided-die on the keychain.

“Don’t get any ideas, grasshopper.” Harry gave me an exaggerated stink eye. “No joy rides.”

I snorted. “I probably won’t even be able to start it.”

Harry struggled to re-balance the huge bag for a moment, then started up the steps to the parking lot.

“Thanks again for watching the place while I’m gone, Molly. If I’m lucky, it’ll only be for a couple days,” he said back over his shoulder. “You have free run of the lab for the weekend to work on your focus. Use whatever you need.”

Harry had been bothering me about my progress on a magical focus for weeks, even though I’d refused to show him until I was finished. Harry loves his foci, and his own- a rune-carved staff and blasting rod- are top shelf in the wizarding business. As Harry’s apprentice, I wanted to impress him, and that meant he wasn’t allowed to see my various failed attempts. And I _might_  have been keeping things extra secret, just to annoy him.

I shook the yellow backpack I’d pilfered from my sister Alicia’s room. “I came prepared,” I said, trying hard not to break out into a grin and ruin my air of wizardly mystery.

Harry looked almost painfully curious.  _ Serves him right _ , I thought. If there was one thing Harry loved, it was waiting to reveal a secret until an appropriately dramatic moment.

“No peeking,” I said, and swung the bag behind my back. I put on my sweetest smile. “It’s not ready yet.”

My master shook his head and laughed. “You know, I did the same thing to Ebenezer when I made my first blasting rod. It’s like looking in a mirror. Nothing like an apprentice to make you feel old.”

“I’ll warn you if you start talking about the good ol’ days,” I said seriously.

“The good ol’ days sucked,” said Harry. “I should know, I was there.”

I was about to shoot back something sufficiently witty when a car horn blared “shave and a haircut”. Harry started double-checking the pockets of his duster.

“That’s my ride. Time to go see what stirred up the Paranet in Minneapolis.”

“Be careful,” I said. I tried to keep the worry out of my voice.

Harry grinned. “Careful is my-”

I cut him off. “No, Suspected Arson is your middle name.”

“Hey!” He gave me a wounded look. “What did I tell you about trying to snark with big leaguers like me?”

The horn blasted again, this time just one long note, and loud enough to wake the dead. We both jumped.

“I’m coming!” Harry called, and started up the stairs. I followed him, jogging a little to keep up with his long legs. A little white sports car had pulled into the parking lot next to the boarding house, and Thomas Raith was getting out of the driver’s seat. I fought down a furious blush and an equally furious urge to start throwing my clothes at him. 

Thomas made deodorant commercial guys look like they were made of Silly Putty. His curling dark hair managed to look artfully windblown instead of just messy. The late afternoon sun outlined the muscles of his chest and shoulders in golden radiance. Some part of my brain that had soaked up too much television started playing smoky saxophone music. With an effort of will, I shut it up and replaced it with the  _Jaws_ theme. That was more appropriate.  Thomas was a White Court vampire, an incubus. The aura of raw sexual attraction that I was feeling wasn’t something he could turn off- it just went with the whole “sex vampire” territory. It wasn’t his fault, but being around him always made me a weird mix of uncomfortable and way, way  _ too _ comfortable.

“Hi Molly,” Thomas said as Harry started toward the car. “How’s the apprentice life treating you?” He looked pointedly at the ground. I told myself he just didn’t want to chance a soulgaze, but I knew better. Thomas was a _reformed_ vampire- he hadn’t fed his demon in years. But it took incredible self-discipline to keep his hunger under control, and any temptation was still a struggle for him. I folded my arms over my chest and suddenly regretted wearing stupid little cutoff shorts.

“Like I’m made of glass, as usual,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Big bad Harry Dresden goes off chasing all the glory, and I get to scoop Mister’s litter box all weekend.”

“Baby steps, grasshopper,” grunted Harry. He had opened the little car’s trunk and was determinedly trying to make the duffel bag fit inside, against all known laws of physics.

“Whatever you say, boss,” I sighed. “Hey Thomas, you got a new car!”

“ _ Someone _ got my last one stepped on by a troll.”

Somehow, Harry managed to wrestle the trunk shut. “I admit nothing,” he said.

Thomas didn’t look particularly bothered. “We’ve got to go. The train’s leaving at eight, I don’t want to miss it.” He opened the car door and slouched down behind the wheel.

“Don’t have too much fun,” I said, lacing my voice with saccharine sweetness. Thomas snorted. Harry gave me a disapproving look.

“Grasshopper, this is going to be dangerous. I know you want to help out, but this is way past your level. You could get yourself hurt, or worse.” He kept up the serious glare for a moment, then sighed. “Besides, your mom called yesterday.”

I grimaced. “That can't be good.”

“She specifically told me I’m not allowed to take you on any… ahem…  _ sleepovers _ .” Harry stared at his boots.

“Ugh,  _ mother.  _ As if.” I forced the words to come out as disgusted as possible.

“Charity means well,” Harry said, with a hint of amusement. “She’s just a little overzealous.”

“Uh huh,” said Thomas, with a little shake of his head. Harry might have missed my lie, but Thomas hadn’t. I guess being a primal sex god made you pretty good at detecting when someone was hiding their feelings. Or, more likely, Harry was just carrying on his grand tradition of being a total moron about women. I felt my blush start up again with a vengeance.

Harry got into the passenger seat, his long legs folding up into the little sports car. I never understood how he could do that, but I guess years of driving around in a tiny old Volkswagen had taught him some human origami. Thomas started the car, and it came alive with a snarl.

“Good luck,” I called.

Harry leaned out the window and said, “In my experience, there’s no such thing as luck.” He gave me a smarmy grin. Harry does a terrible Obi-Wan Kenobi, but it’s better than his Yoda, at least.

The car thrummed and began to roll toward the street. Harry craned his neck and called back, “Don’t forget to walk Mouse twice a day, he gets cooped up in the house.”

“I know.”

“If you need something, call Murph, or Will and Georgia.”

“I know!”

“And  _ don’t wreck the Beetle!”  _ Harry shouted as Thomas drove away.

_ “I know!” _ I waited until I was sure his wizard senses wouldn’t pick it up, then muttered, “you ass.” I tried hard to keep a sad smile off my face.  _ There goes Harry Dresden, off to save the world. Again. Without me. _

Soft fur brushed against my leg, and I looked down to see a wooly rhinoceros emerge from Harry’s bedroom. Mouse, Harry’s enormous temple dog, padded up the stairs and watched Thomas’ car grow smaller, until it turned a corner and disappeared behind an ugly office building. He  _ whuff _ ed and looked up at me with sad doggy eyes. Mouse is half Caucasian mountain dog and half actual mountain, but he’s one hundred percent giant baby.

“Oh don’t give me that,” I said. “He’ll be fine. He always is.”

Mouse sighed and sat down on my feet. I winced a little. Mouse is better than 200 pounds, and I was standing barefoot on gravel.

“Anyway, I’m way more fun than boring old Harry.” I began to extricate one foot. “You’ll see.”

He gave me a look of profound disdain. It would have been unnervingly un-doglike, but Mouse was smarter than some of the guys I went to highschool with, and Harry and I were used to it by now. I got my other foot out from under his fuzzy butt and walked back into the apartment, jingling the Beetle’s keychain in my hand. I looked down to make sure I wouldn’t close the door on Mouse’s tail… but I didn’t need to. He wasn’t there. A soulful whine came from the parking lot, and there sat Mouse, exactly where I’d left him.

“Come on, Mouse! Work with me here,” I said. He looked at me, then turned up his nose. Too dignified to argue, apparently.

“Cards on the table. If you come inside, I’ll give you a slice of pizza. Don’t tell Harry.” If the promise of pizza worked on the Little Folk, I figured it would work on a dog.

Mouse ignored me. I rolled my eyes, but it was hard to stay mad at him. 

Trying to drag him inside by main strength would be hopeless- if Mouse didn't want to move, he wasn't going to move. Instead, I left the door open and walked back into the apartment. I filled two bowls with water and two with food for Mouse and Mister, made a sandwich from some mismatched cold cuts in the icebox, and- in a fit of apprentice rebellion- grabbed a brown bottle of Mac's ale. If Harry was going to make me watch his apartment all weekend, I damn well deserved some kind of payment.

I put plate and bottle down on the end table, picked up a book on disruptive magic I'd been skimming through, and sat down on the couch. Then I looked at the open apartment door... and Mouse was gone.  _Of course._

"Here boy!" I called out the door. "Mouse!" The big dog had never run away before- he was too smart for that. But he wasn't really used to Harry going off without him. If Mouse had decided to go off looking for Harry, he might get seriously lost. Chicago was huge and confusing, even for a supermutt. Mouse didn't wear a collar- what if Animal Control thought he was some huge beast wandering the city? Worse, what if someone knew _exactly_ what Mouse was and grabbed him? Temple dogs were seriously magical, and any number of nasty supernatural things might want to get their hands on him. If I had to tell Harry I'd lost his dog... 

I jammed my dinner back in the icebox, grabbed my backpack, and charged out the door, shouting "Mouse!" as loud as I could. My heart beat like a jackhammer in my throat as I unzipped the backpack and started rifling through it, looking for something to defend myself and Mouse. I whirled around the parking lot, looking for ghouls, vampires, dog catchers, or one of a thousand other worst case scenarios. 

So I jumped about three feet in the air when Mouse stuck his cold doggy nose in the back of my knee.

I screamed and started drawing up my will into some kind of defensive spell, but about halfway through the process, I realized what was going on. I glared daggers at Mouse, who sat there wagging his tail innocently.

I groaned and scratched him between the ears. Sometimes, the only way to satisfy Mouse was to play along with whatever he was doing.

“Okay, let’s play Lassie. What do you smell, boy? Did little Timmy fall in the well again?" I asked, as I walked back down and shut the apartment door. As the steel security door clunked shut, I felt the magical wards go up around the apartment. Anything that tried to get in without permission would get a nasty surprise. Mouse padded out of my sight again. I came up the stairs and found Mouse peering into the Blue Beetle.

I never knew why Harry had kept using that name for the old car- the only thing blue about it was the roof and the antifreeze puddling underneath it. It must have been blue at some point in its life, but years of service to a reckless wizard had left their mark on the poor VW. The doors, hood, and trunk were various colors of red, white, green, and primer gray. For a while, the interior had been mostly duct tape and plywood; Harry had been forced to improvise after the upholstery was eaten by “mold demons.” I didn’t know whether to believe him or not. It was fixed now, but Harry had cheaped out on the replacements, so the seats were all an ugly beige- except the passenger seat, which was black. An ancient styrofoam cup of coffee occupied one cupholder, and a couple of Burger King bags sat crumpled on the backseat. Such was the mighty steed of Harry Dresden, Warden of the White Council, hamburger connoisseur.

Mouse bumped his nose against the windshield, then looked at me expectantly.

“What?” I looked at Mouse and shrugged. “You know, this would be a lot easier if you could talk.”

_ “Wuff,” _ said Mouse. I rolled my eyes. He pointed his nose toward the car, then padded over to me and shoved his muzzle into my hand. I laughed and pulled my hand away from his slobbery tongue… and Mouse came away with the Beetle’s keychain held casually in his mouth. He looked hopefully toward the car, his tail wagging furiously.

“I can’t,” I said, fighting down a laugh. “Harry said…”

Mouse gave me the sad doggy eyes.

_ “Dammit,” _ I said, and took the keys from his mouth. “Fine. If Harry finds out, I’m telling him you made me do it.”

His tail wagging started up again, and the big dog clambered into the passenger seat. I considered sliding over the hood like an action movie badass, then reconsidered as I noted the jagged patches of rust and my bare legs. Instead, I walked around and opened the door like a normal person who hadn’t watched way too much TV in their formative years.

I sat down, put my backpack on the back seat, and felt a thrill of nervous energy run through me. Harry would never find out, and even if he did, he probably wouldn’t mind as long as the Beetle came back in one piece. And besides, rebellion just felt so good.

Mouse and I looked at each other solemnly, and I turned the key. The Beetle sputtered a few times, then coughed to life.

Then the two of us drove off in our stolen car.

 


End file.
